The Long Way Home
by aruyo
Summary: "It's been a month since Gamzee finally started trying to go sober, two weeks since he ran away from home for no discernible reason, and thirty minutes since he stumbled into the Vantas family home and took residence on Karkat's bed. And if he's being honest with himself, Karkat has absolutely no idea what he's going to do now."


He's sleeping now.

In sleep, with the harlequin makeup washed off his face and the dim moonlight casting soft shadows against the planes of his face, Gamzee looks peaceful. There's nothing of the blissfully sedated serenity he always wears like a mask, or the unsettling calm that overtakes him when he is sober. He just looks peaceful, like he's free, like he's finally okay even though Karkat is sure that he isn't. Those three scars stand out clearly against his pale skin, and Karkat still doesn't know where they're from, and Gamzee refuses to explain it to him properly, so he just doesn't ask. He doesn't ask about a lot of things, these days. Whether it's because he respects Gamzee's privacy or because he's just scared, he doesn't know.

It's been a month since Gamzee finally started trying to go sober, two weeks since he ran away from home for no discernible reason, and thirty minutes since he stumbled into the Vantas family home and took residence on Karkat's bed. And if he's being honest with himself, Karkat has absolutely no idea what he's going to do now. What will he say when Gamzee wakes up? Will he shout, curse, scream at his friend for being such an inconsiderate douchebag? Or will he start crying like some stupid kid after waking up from a nightmare? But the more important question remains: will Gamzee care either way? It's hard to tell sometimes, and Karkat's sick of it, but not nearly as sick as he was when Gamzee left.

He remembers when they first met, years ago. Sometime in the summer before their first year of high school, before shit truly hit the fan. He remembers nursing nothing but a deep and abiding hatred for Gamzee, the stupid chucklefuck with the messy hair and makeup and piercings. Of course, it was a recognized fact that Gamzee came from one of the richest, most privileged families in town. It was also a recognized fact that Karkat came from one of the poorest, least privileged families in town. And being as Karkat's preferred way of dealing with any situation was to get furious and ask questions later, it was only reasonable that their first meeting wasn't particularly cordial. Mostly on Karkat's part, admittedly.

"In all of my fourteen years of living, I have never met a single person who wastes the oxygen around us at such an alarmingly obnoxious rate as you do. Do us all a favor and climb back into whatever dank, depraved hole you crawled out of, you fucking obnoxious piece of garbage."

"Oh," Gamzee had replied after a prolonged pause, as if Karkat's presence had only just occurred to him. "Hey there, motherfucker. Nice to make your motheruckin' acquaintance."

And so it went. Of course, Karkat had ranted for a little while longer. About how freakishly tall Gamzee was, how stupid, how completely and utterly useless he was in all aspects of life, and so on and so forth. Gamzee had taken it all in stride with that same stupid, dopey smile, and after all was said and done, Karkat despised him even more than before, something that he had previously considered impossible. But the thing about Gamzee, at least in Karkat's experience, was that he really was stupid- so stupid, in fact, that he was attracted to Karkat's special brand of unbridled rage and loathing like a moth to a flame. And so, despite heavy protests from Karkat, they inevitably became friends.

At first, Gamzee had seemed like a harmless moron. He was goofy, given to all sorts of drugs, and just about as threatening as a cat lounging in the afternoon sun. The most he was ever likely to do on any given day was throw an arm around Karkat's shoulder and drone on about miracles. Absolutely harmless. Or so Karkat thought. It took until the end of sophomore year for him to see Gamzee sober, as in, completely and unmistakably coherent, and it was most assuredly not a pretty sight. It was actually pretty fucking terrifying, and it hadn't exactly helped Karkat with the nightmares he had been plagued with since childhood. On the contrary, it gave his mind new material to work with. Suffice to say that Gamzee Makara was not the kind of person you wanted to fuck with under any circumstances.

But that was then, and Gamzee had returned to the warm embrace of whatever solace he sought from his remedies soon after. It had been nothing more than a slip-up. This time is different- this time, Gamzee is going sober of his own volition. He probably hasn't been any less terrifying this time around, but Karkat hasn't seen him in weeks, so he's been blessedly absent for the worst of it. God only knows what his friend has been getting up to recently, and Karkat doesn't have any interest in finding out. What matters now is that Gamzee is back, and Karkat can release the breath he has been holding for weeks. He's still a ner vous wreck about what Gamzee'll do when he wakes up, but it'll be worth it.

Hopefully.

His thoughts drifting away from him, Karkat leans over to run a hand through Gamzee's abundant hair. He's been trying to get the idiot to cut it for years, but Gamzee always just smiles and shakes his head. Karkat really doesn't mind that much. It looks coarse and black and generally uninviting, but it's actually pretty soft to the touch. He sighs. He's fully aware that his parents will kill him if they find out that Gamzee is here. But he won't kick his best friend out in the cold, no matter how stupid or reckless or inconsiderate the asshole is. After years of being the proverbial shoulder for Karkat to crying on, for listening to all of his yelling, for being a pretty great friend overall, Gamzee deserves that much.

The seconds wind into minutes wind into hours, and just as Karkat is beginning to fall into blissful incoherency himself, Gamzee stirs beneath his touch. He hastily withdraws his hand and forces himself not to flinch back. It's a pleasant surprise that when Gamzee's eyes finally open, his pupils the same shade of dark indigo as always, they're not bloodshot, or angry, or clouded with painkillers. Gamzee blinks up at him slowly, languidly, as if he doesn't quite understand the situation even though he was the one who walked in here in the first place. After two weeks without so much as a single word. Despite the situation, Karkat scoffs, anger welling up in his chest along with a strange sense of relief.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo, you insensitive piece of shit."

Another blink. Progress, Karkat thinks, or maybe the asshat just has something in his eye. The boy yawns, stretching with relish against the blanket Karkat had haphazardly thrown over him. He really does seem different without his makeup, but it's certainly not an unwelcomed change. Gamzee, he realizes belatedly, has really dark eyelashes. The clown flutters them up at him like some pinup model from the thirties, his eyes asking a question that his mouth can't seem to form. In a rare act of pity and against the resentful voice in his head, Karkat obliges with an abridged version: "You went and dicked around again for two weeks, and then you came back out of bumblefuck nowhere, and then you decided that you would steal my bed because you're a selfish, insufferable prick."

Gamzee seems to ponder this before finally opening his mouth to speak. "Sorry about that, brother. Guess I just got a little sleepy. Had to recharge my mind and all that shit. My bad."

"Your bad?" Karkat parrots incredulously. "Damn straight it was your bad! What the ever-loving fuck, Gamzee? You don't just leave whenever you want and then show up out of nowhere after weeks! Fucking Christ, you thoughtless dipshit. Why are we friends again?"

Gamzee seems to consider again, but more seriously this time. "Fuck man, I'm real motherfuckin' sorry. I was shit sure that things were gonna get pretty motherfuckin' off the hook, since I was going sober and all, and I didn't want to hurt my fuckin' best bro again. So I just kinda slid the fuck out for a while. Till I was fucking done with this bitch."

"You stupid asshole," Karkat grumbles, glaring through the darkness. He can't muster up too much hatred, though- Gamzee looks like shit, and he's more tired than Karkat's ever seen him, and he isn't angry enough to deprive his friend of sleep. Regardless, he feels the need to add, "I could have helped, you know. I'm not completely fucking incompetent. It's not like I'm made of glass or whatever the fuck it is you think about me."

Gamzee frowns, looking genuinely displeased. "Nah man, that shit's not what I meant. I just know how much you motherfuckin' hate it when I'm, y'know, all crazy and shit. Didn't want to upset you too fuckin' much, y'know?"

And despite how much he dearly wishes for the contrary, Karkat does know. He knows that Gamzee can be irresponsible, stupid, and downright impossible most of the time, but deep down, Karkat sees that he's not the worst friend a guy could have. Not by a long shot. Besides, it's clear by now that they're stuck with each other. So Karkat groans in defeat, and he leans over to rest his forehead next to the pillow Gamzee's head currently occupies. "On behalf of the Karkat Vantas Give a Fuck committee, welcome home, you pitiable fucker. "

Gamzee hums in reply, a deep and surprisingly relaxing rumble. "Nice to fuckin' be home, brother."

* * *

shitty ending but w/e I'm tired.

these guys omg precious bbs.


End file.
